


8 HEADS IN A DUFFLE BAG

by elwon



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: 8 heads in a duffle bag, Canon-Typical Violence, Dick Grayson is a pathologist, Jason Todd is a Revenant, Jason swears a lot, Kissing, M/M, RIP Dick's heterosexuality, Supernatural Creatures, gotham is weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26326597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwon/pseuds/elwon
Summary: inspired by this post on tumblr: https://vilka-bird.tumblr.com/post/626737707730845696/okay-this-is-au-where-dick-is-the-pathologistDick’s in for a wild night when the latest John Doe to arrive on his slab sits up. And why does he have eight heads in a duffle bag?
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Donna Troy, Jason Todd/Dick Grayson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 158





	8 HEADS IN A DUFFLE BAG

Dick doesn’t mind working the graveyard shift in the morgue at all. If anything he thinks it’s peaceful and a little fun, although whenever he says that to his brothers he gets eyerolls from them both. What _is_ difficult is seeing young people on his slab. Tonight’s visitor is a young man in his early twenties, tall, muscled, and if Dick didn’t know better; just from the body temperature alone; looking for all the world like he’s simply sleeping. The gunshot to the chest is a pretty telling cause of death, but what’s a true mystery is that he was brought in with a hand twisted and clenched down on the handle of a duffle bag. A duffle bag which contains eight disembodied heads, all male. 

But that’s for the police to figure out. Dick’s job is to check over the man on his slab. Dick sighs; it’s always a shame when a hot one comes in. It seems these days the only hot people Dick meets are dead. He turns away, setting up his scalpels. He switches off his headphones, ready to speak into the autopsy recording device only to realise that his dead John Doe is in fact sitting up, staring at him in horror. Dick does the only thing he can. He grabs the nearest tray to hand and swings it at the dead man.

“Ouch! Fucking hell, stop that.” John Doe cries out, lifting his arms to defend himself. Big strong arms, with biceps that Dick’s not sure if he’s jealous of, or wants wrapped around him.

“Zombie!” Dick cries out, extremely unprofessionally, he can admit. At least he hadn’t turned on the recording equipment and they’re alone. 

“Jesus fuck, what is going on here? Who are you? Where am I?” John Doe says when Dick stops hitting him. 

“I’m Dr Grayson. You’re in the morgue. Because you were dead.” Dick says grabbing at the last vestiges of his professionalism.

“Uh, I’m clearly not fucking dead.” John Doe says, glaring at Dick. “Look, Doc, I’m awake and everything.”

“Well. Yes, you are.” Dick nods, still keeping his distance. “You came in as a John Doe. What’s your name?”

John Doe frowns, slowly. “I don’t know.” He stares down at Dick, confusion all over his face. “I don’t know my name, or how old I am, or where I live. Or what the date is.”

“Alright. OK. This is what we’re going to do.” Dick says, decisiveness hiding his panic. “I’m going to check your vitals, and that gunshot wound, and then we’ll go from there.” Dick nods, sorting himself out a tray to do exactly that while John Doe sits naked on the slab with only a thin sheet covering him. His vitals are all fine, blood pressure, heartbeat, breathing, and temperature. (Which Dick swears was at least ten degrees colder earlier than it’d be for anyone alive.) The only thing that doesn’t look right is the open, through-and-through bullet wound, and Dick ignores all thoughts of how firm John’s abs are, and how broad and strong his back looks, while he sews him up. 

“Hey Doc, while I really appreciate that you didn’t cut me open, thanks for that by the way; but can I have my clothes? It’s chilly in here.” John says, one hand holding the sheet around his waist now that he’s sitting up on the slab.

“Oh god, don’t even joke, I was just about to give you the initial chest incision.” Dick feels faintly horrified.

“I dunno, Doc, I think I could rock a Y scar if it came down to it. Got the space for it!” John pats at his chest, laughing. “But seriously, clothes?”

“Right. Uh, well the stuff you came in got cut off you so...” Dick flushes, he walks over to a cupboard that tends to hold things like lost property. “There might be something in here that’ll fit you.” Dick finds a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, a hoodie and a pair of sneakers that’ll do and takes them over to John. “Thanks, Doc.” John smiles at him, and Dick’s heart skips a beat at the crooked grin being sent his way. (Goddamnit, he can’t be gay, he’s getting married in two weeks to a lovely lady who owns his life... Even if he _hasn’t_ seen her in person in a while. Wedding planning is keeping her so busy.)

But Dick still finds that he’s looking as John pulls on the sweatpants, which are long enough and fit around the waist but are a little tight on the thighs. And he really shouldn’t be staring at those wide shoulders as he pulls on the sneakers. Or taking one last sneak peak at those abs as John pulls on the shirt. Dick speaks to avoid drooling. “They fit OK?”

“Yup!” John says, deep voice muffled by the t-shirt. “Oh hey, this has a name tag on it. ‘Jason’. I like that. Hey, Doc, call me Jason why doncha?”

“Sure.” Dick says, wiping at his chin while Jason isn’t looking. “OK, so... I have one burning question to ask you before I call my supervisors.”

“Shoot, Doc.” Jason says, giving him another heart-stopping smile, and Dick has to clench his fist to stop from asking if he’s single.

“You were brought in with these. In that duffle bag. Wrapped around your wrist.” Dick says, walking over to another table containing a duffle bag and the eight severed heads. He pulls off the sheet to show Jason. “Do you know why you had them?”

“Not a damn clue.” Jason says, frowning faintly. Most people would have a much stronger reaction to seeing so many heads, but Jason’s barely reacting at all. It’s just mystery on upon mystery for Dick tonight. “Sorry, Doc. I really can’t remember a single fucking thing.”

“OK. It was kind of a long shot, I guess.” Dick nods, covering the heads back up. “Well, I better go make that call.”

“Right, hey, before you do? I’m kinda hungry.” Jason smiles again, this time sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand. “You got anything to eat here?”

“We’ve got vending machines just outside.” Dick says pointing to the double doors of the morgue.

“Great.” Jason stands there looking at Dick, clearly waiting for something. “Uh... Could you maybe spot me some change? I kinda have fucking nothing here.”

“Oh! Right.” Dick flushes, pulling out his wallet from his pocket and passing Jason two single dollar bills.

Dick turns to the phone on the desk, putting in the number for his supervisor. Outside, he distantly hears the sound of the vending machine giving up a bottle of water, and some other kind of snack. The phone rings and rings, and after two minutes Dick gives up. It’s at that point he realises Jason hasn’t come back in, and goes outside to look for him.

No matter where he looks, he can’t find him.

***

‘Jason’ isn’t really thinking about where he’s going, all he knows is that he really wants to avoid the authorities, and that there’s no fucking way the people at the morgue weren’t going to contact the police about him. Something instinctive and strong says he needs to avoid them as much as possible. So here he is, wandering around Gotham in the early hours of the morning, in borrowed sweats. His feet take him past a set of closed, wrought iron gates, and he feels a pull to climb over them and find out what’s beyond. 

Climbing the gates is easier than he thinks it’s going to be, barely even two jumps and he’s over the spiked top and dropping down the other side. He readjusts his borrowed hoodie, his fingers brushing over the patch saying ‘Jason’. It’s odd how _right_ it feels to use that name, even just in the privacy of his own head. It fits in a way that John Doe didn’t. Jason shakes the thoughts away and walks deeper into the area beyond the gates. After seeing the third gravestone in a row, he realises it’s probably a cemetery. 

But much like seeing the eight disembodied heads earlier, walking through a graveyard at 3am isn’t bothering him at all. It almost feels homely. Like he’s been here before. A lot. He wanders through the well-kept lawns and the different tombstones all laid out in a wide grid pattern. One in particular catches his eye, even though there’s nothing remotely remarkable about it. There’s an angel perched over the name stone, but there’s plenty of other graves with angels on them. 

This tombstone however is right next to a copse of trees, providing shade during the day, but right now offering some deep shadows in the moonlit night. Why Jason is drawn to the darkest patch of shadows in the already dark cemetery, he doesn’t know. When he gets close to the grave, the name engraved it the stone sends a chill through him. ‘Jason Todd’, and a deathdate from 30 years ago, is written there, but it’s enough to make Jason reach out and run his fingers over the grooves. 

The shadows deepen around him, as if something’s growing in the copse of trees to block out the moonlight. He looks over and the shadow has eyes. Glowing red eyes. And to the side and slightly below a smaller pair of glowing red eyes. Jason should be quaking in fear, but instead he stands there, simply waiting.

It’s all very odd.

 _Where are the heads?_ The shadow says, it’s deep voice like the rumble of the earth below them. It’s familiar in a way that Jason can’t place, a bone-deep recognition without any knowledge. It vaguely brings to mind the thunder of large trucks rumbling past a small dingy alley, where the only thing separating you from the concrete floor is a thin, damp layer of cardboard box.

“The fucking morgue.” Jason says, shrugging. He’s not entirely sure why he’s answering this... Whatever the fuck is standing in front of him instead of leaving like a sane person, but he is. “Where I just came from.”

 _Why?_ The large shadow asks, eyes narrowing. Jason decides to call it the Shadowbeast, at least in the privacy of his own head. It’s shadowy and beastly. It works.

“Funny story. I woke up there.” Jason tells the Shadowbeast. The menace coming from it should be terrifying Jason, but instead he stands there completely nonchalantly. It feels a little like an employee who no longer has any fucks to give talking to his boss.

 _Why were you sleeping there?_ The smaller Shadowbeast asks, puzzled; it’s voice higher and creaking like a highwire about to snap.

Silence like the disappointed, heavy sigh of a father who’s been let down one too many times. And then, _Retrieve the heads._

“Why? And also who the fuck are you?” Jason says, but the Shadowbeasts are retreating, way back into the shadows. Jason follows them, but as soon as he’s passing the tree line, the shadows are gone, leaving Jason standing in moonlight.

 _Retrieve the heads._ A ghostly echo tells him and the breeze blows, making Jason finally shudder. He should leave, jump in the first fucking truck that’s he passes that’s heading of Gotham and never look back. But something compels him, and his footsteps take him back the way he came, over the high wrought-iron gate, through who knows how many alleys and streets, back towards the morgue and the cute attendant that Jason can admit he kind of wants to see again. 

Considering that Jason remembers nothing, the streets feel like home. He instinctively knows where to cross the roads, even with the light, barely there traffic of the graveyard shift. He knows the corners to avoid, filled with gang members looking after their turf. Where the pimps and druggies hang out, and which working girls will give him a genuine smile and which ones only use their business faces. He knows which warehouses are receiving illegal drop offs of goods and which mafia families still have control of the docks. He knows things he has no business knowing. 

He was dead only a little while ago. He knows that too. He wasn’t taking a deep nap after getting caught in some gang shootout. He was fucking _dead_ , no pulse, no brain activity, cold as the grave of that poor bastard Jason Todd. And somehow, here he is, walking Gotham’s streets, feeling stronger, fearless and... Powerful.

That’s how he feels. _Powerful_. It’s why he wasn’t afraid of the Shadowbeast and its companion. It can’t hurt him. For all that it feels like he works for it, Jason’s not scared or worried. He’s not even confused, and he should be. He’s rolling with all the weirdness tonight, when he feels like maybe even ten hours ago he’d be freaking out like anyone else would be. He’s powerful as he strides along the Gotham alleyways, fearless as he passes shadows in the doorways that should be shrunk away from. They can’t touch him. He has a mission and he’s going to fulfil it.

_Retrieve the heads._

They hadn’t looked particularly special when he’d looked at them earlier. Just eight disembodied heads, men of various ages and looks, a diverse bunch that told him nothing about why they’d been collected or where from. 

Or who, for that matter. It could be absolutely anyone, Jason could have done it; it could have been some random serial killer. Fuck, they could be corpses that had been dug up especially to be beheaded. Jason doesn’t know, and he doesn’t really care.

He probably should.

Dr Grayson seemed to, and the thought of him makes something in Jason pause. There’d been something in his gaze that had made Jason fucking _feel_. It hadn’t been strong, and it wasn’t enough to make him stick around, but it was there, and now that Jason’s thinking about it, it’s a sensation that’s been completely absent since he left the good doctor’s side.

Part of him wants that feeling back. It was warm and soft. Jason might feel powerful and fearless, but it’s a cold sort of thing. Dr Grayson had exuded warmth; a purely living warmth, that Jason had felt drawn to like a moth to a flame. But Dr Grayson hadn’t made Jason feel like there was any danger to him. Well, no more than there is to anyone. Even the weakest of people can be dangerous when push comes to shove. Jason can see it in the faces he passes. The desperate, the forsaken, the young and old who are eking out a living with all the odds against them. 

***

Dick hangs up the handset after a long stressful conversation with his supervisor about how he ‘lost’ a corpse. Strangely enough, despite the fact this is _Gotham_ , his boss didn’t believe Dick when he said John Doe had simply woken up, got dressed and walked out. Dick’s not having a good night when you add the dressing down he just had to the really badly-timed epiphany over his sexuality. He desperately wants call his fiancé, and just talk everything out, but it’s been weeks since they talked about anything that wasn’t venues and colour schemes. He misses simply talking with her.

Dick’s just glad it’s not a Wednesday. That’s the really freaky night of the week.

The door to the morgue swings open, and Dick looks up to see who it is. No one is scheduled to come in, and there’s been no calls about incoming fresh (or indeed not-so-fresh) bodies. A strong, solid arm holds the door open, only for a tall, muscled body to follow it through. Dick recognises that hoodie and the sweatpants that are verging on too tight on the thighs.

“Jason, you came back!” Dick says, surprised and happy. A little too happy, he thinks because somehow Jason got more attractive in the two hours it’s been since Dick last saw him. Down boy. Don’t drool. Be professional.

“Uh... Hey, Doc. Listen, I need a favour.” Jason walks in and Dick has to resist the urge to reach out and touch that chest with its magnificent pecs.

“Sure, anything!” Dick blurts out automatically. “I mean. Within reason, obviously.”

“So, um... I need the heads.” Jason says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking sheepish.

“Why?” Dick blinks, dropping his hand and looking over to the drawer now holding the eight heads. “Did you remember why you had them?”

“Uh...” Standing this close to Jason, Dick can see a faint green glow to his eyes and he wonder what drugs Jason had been given to make that happen. Jason blinks. “No. I just know I have to fucking take them... Somewhere.”

“I can’t let you leave with them.” Dick says, squaring his shoulders, ready to block Jason from getting to the heads. “Especially since you won’t tell me anything.”

“Try and fucking stop me.” Jason says, losing the crooked smile he’d been holding on his face, frowning. He walks over to the drawer Dick had looked at earlier, the bag in easy reach of the drawer and Dick curses himself for not moving it. 

Dick takes a deep breath before marching over to Jason, putting a hand on his shoulder to yank him away from the heads. “I don’t want to fight you, Jason. But I can’t let you take them.” He pulls, fully expecting Jason to step back from the now open drawer and duffle bag that he’s filling back up.

“Sorry, Doc. I don’t answer to you.” Jason says, sounding genuinely apologetic, but he doesn’t move with Dick’s pulling. Dick’s yanking on his arm, and yet, Jason’s just zipping up the full bag and turning away towards the door. He takes no notice of Dick, dragging him after him. Dick sighs, and pulls out his best moves, since whatever Jason’s been dosed with is obviously increasing his strength. He puts his weight onto his arms and flips up over Jason’s head.

“Wow, you’re fuckin’ flippy, ain’tcha?” Jason says, a surprised smile on his face as Dick vaults over him.

“I used to be an Olympics-level gymnast.” Dick says, swinging himself around in the hopes that getting in front of Jason will make him pause. It doesn’t. 

“Oh, cool.” Jason nods, holding Dick up without so much as a laboured breath. Dick wants to melt at how needy that makes him, but he focuses on the duffle bag instead. “That’s very impressive. I probably can’t even fucking parkour.”

Dick flips onto Jason’s back, wrapping his legs around his waist and his arms around Jason’s neck, like Rhys from Tales of the Borderlands and that one mook. Dick half expects a hat wearing lady to ask him if he needs help and for Jason to reply, ‘No, no, let him try!’ in an amused and almost flirty tone. “This isn’t working at all, is it?” Dick sighs.

“No, but keep trying!” Jason encourages, and Dick shakes his head at the way Jason really did just echo that mook. “Huh, you’re heavier than you look.”

“I wear baggy scrubs!” Dick says, slightly affronted. “I’m all muscle under here.”

“I feel like I should say that’s hot, but I’ve got no idea if you’re single or not.” Jason shrugs, the movement lifting Dick up and down. “I don’t wanna be inappropriate.”

“Oh. I have a fiancé.” Dick says slowly, wishing that he didn’t, and then hating himself because his fiancé is the other half of his soul. “Uh... Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Jason says, striding through the double doors of the morgue. “Not gonna lie, I’m a little disappointed, but your fiancé is a fucking lucky lady.”

“I’ll pass that message on to her. I’m sure she’ll agree.” Dick clings on to Jason, watching as he strides along the corridor to the exit. “You realise I can’t let go of you, right?”

“Well, you _could_. You just won’t. And you’re gonna regret it, Doc.” Jason says, putting his arm out to open the exit door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, OK?”

“I’ll consider myself warned.” Dick nods, trying to ignore the heat of Jason through his clothes, and the way he can feel his muscles move as he walks along to where ever the hell he’s dragging Dick. “I wish I’d grabbed a blood test kit. I want to know what you took that’s making you barely notice me on your back.”

“Really Doc, you keep flirting with me like that, and I’m not gonna be responsible for my actions.” Jason laughs, patting Dick’s thigh with his free hand. “I don’t _think_ I’m on drugs... But then I’m not sure. Amnesia’s the worst.”

“I’m not flirting!” Dick protests, clinging on harder to Jason’s abs with his legs. “I’m taken!”

“I wish I was taking you... No. Nope, you’re practically a married man. Have some self control, Jason.” Jason shakes his head.

“I’m really not flirting with you.” Dick says quietly. “I mean, yes, I have of course noticed that you’re very attractive and that you’re very strong and could probably manhandle me easily and pin to me to wall and have your wicked way with me... Oh god, I’m flirting with you.”

“Yeah, Doc. You should stop that.” Jason says, ducking his head to hide his grin. “But thanks, it’s nice to be told that. Not that this is gonna go anywhere.”

“You’re stealing evidence in a police investigation.” Dick says, staring up at the early morning clouds covering up the stars. “And possibly kidnap.”

“Oh no, the kidnapping is not on me.” Jason points out, lifting the duffle bag to hold up one finger. “There is no fucking kidnapping happening here. If anything, you’re _assaulting me_.”

“I’m attempting to stop a crime in progress!” Dick says, pushing himself up still on Jason’s back.

“OK, you keep telling yourself that, Doc.” Jason snorts. “Personally I think you probably need to call your fiancé and have a chat about uh... Doc? Please tell me that’s your phone poking me in the back?”

“It’s my phone!” Dick says in a rush, face heating up and feeling like he’s about to combust. “It’s definitely my phone! There’s nothing untoward happening in my pants!” Dick bits his lip hard and tries to think the unsexiest thoughts possible so that he’s no longer lying. But Jason huffs, shifting Dick up and down again, and he has to admit to himself at least, that being carried by Jason is totally turning him on.

Jason’s right, he really needs to talk to his fiancé.

“Doc, I fucking hate to tell you this, but maybe you need a refresher anatomy course.” Jason smirks widely.

***

Jason arrives at the cemetery gates with Dick still clinging on, and the weight of the eight heads in the duffle bag heavy on his right wrist. The gate’s ajar, enough for Jason to squeeze through. Dick slips down from his back, keeping a grip in his shoulder as Jason slides between the barely open gates. Dick follows him through without a word. The silence doesn’t last, and Jason had the feeling it wouldn’t.

“A cemetery? Really?” Dick mutters, his hold on Jason’s shoulder getting tighter. “As if this night wasn’t creepy enough.”

“It’s gonna get worse, Doc.” Jason says, throwing a grin over his shoulder. Dick shudders, quickening his pace to stay closer to Jason.

“Where are we going?” Dick says quietly.

“Well, to be honest? I’m not entirely fucking sure, but...” Jason says, looking over to the grave he’d been at earlier. “My grave.”

“Your _what?_ ” Dick doesn’t quite shriek, his low volume stopping it from truly being one. “Why?”

“Because that’s where they’re waiting for me.” Jason shrugs. “The ones that want the heads.”

“This is insane.” Dick whispers again. “What have I got myself into?”

“Look, Doc, all I know is that the fucking Shadowbeasts wanted these heads, and I’m alive to give them to them.” Jason hefts the bag in his hand. “And I’m pretty sure they pulled my out of my grave to do it, so...”

“Why is Gotham so fucked up?” Dick says under his breath, stepping in even closer to Jason, so much so that Jason can feel his body heat.

“Beats me, Doc.” Jason says, guiding Dick over to the grave that’s becoming more and more certain is his own, the one next to the copse of trees. He stands by the grave stone and Dick inhales sharply.

“Jason Todd.” Dick reads from the stone. He looks at Jason and then the marker again.

“In the flesh.” Jason grins as he looks at Dick. “What’s up, Doc.”

“You really were dead...” Dick says, looking horrified, until an annoyed look crosses his face. “You’ve been waiting all night to use that one, haven’t you?” 

“Guilty.” Jason doesn’t bother to bite back the grin at Dick’s annoyance. He smirks widely until he feels the shadows in the trees move. And that’s the only way to describe it. He feels it, not sees it.

“Uh, Jason?” Dick says, pulling at his shoulder. Jason can feel him shake slightly, and it’s not from the cold. 

_You have brought the heads._ The larger Shadowbeast says, making Dick jump.

“Yeah, they’re right here.” Jason raises the bag, throwing it into the trees.

 _With this, our bargain for your resurrection is complete._ The smaller Shadowbeast says, darting forward to grab the bag before retreating back into the shadows. 

“Wait, what? What bargain? Resurrection?” Dick blurts out, looking in horror at the shadows that sway menacingly in the trees.

 _We needed a human avatar to collect the heads of those who have betrayed us for their own gain!_ chirps the little Shadowbeast, nodding its ‘head’. _We brought Jason Todd back to life to do that._

 _’Haven. Enough._ the larger Shadowbeast rumbles and ‘Haven’ falls silent, seemingly scolded into silence. 

“Betrayers? Wait, you mean Jason killed those people?” Dick’s stare flicks between the shadows and Jason.

“No.” Jason says, feeling a little bit off, woozy, and like he’s about to be sick. “I collected them. In one evening.”

 _You should see what he could do if he had all night!_ ‘Haven’ pipes up again, before withdrawing further into the shadows when the larger Shadowbeast growls. _Sorry, boss._

 _Many of them were already dead._ the larger Shadowbeast intones. _But not all of them._

“I literally remember nothing before I woke up in the morgue.” Jason points out. “But I still feel weirdly proud I got eight fucking heads in one evening.”

“Dude!” Dick hisses at him and Jason shrugs, unapologetic. If Dick were less scandalised he’d probably be more impressed. 

“What? C’mon Doc, you gotta admit that had to have taken some serious skills.” Jason says staring at him blandly. Dick blinks at him, before literally shaking it off.

“OK, you know what? You’ve given the weird Shadowbeasts what they want. I think we should leave.” Dick says, visibly trying to control himself. “And then my superiors won’t fire me for losing a body.”

“Uh. Wait, seriously?” Jason says, feeling guilty. It’s not exactly his fault, but damn that sucks for Dick.

“Yes! Why do you think I monkeyed on your back all the way here?” Dick’s exasperation is writ all across his features.

“You were bored and wanted an adventure? And uh... other reactions?” Jason rubs at the back of his neck. 

“No!” Dick flushes a little in the moonlight. “I mean... Maybe partly yes, but mostly I like my job and I don’t want to lose it.”

 _Todd cannot leave. We still have a use for him._ the larger Shadowbeast says, stopping their conversation.

“Wait, what? I don’t remember the deal, but I’m pretty fucking sure I wouldn’t’ve agreed to that.” Jason says, and the cool temperature of the night takes on an even deeper chill as the shadows around them darken.

 _Gotham... Boss... Maybe he only needs to do one more job?_ ‘Haven’ says quietly, tugging on Gotham’s ‘outline’. _You could pick anything!_

 _I suppose._ ‘Gotham’ says, and Jason gets the distinct impression that the Shadowbeast’s eyes are narrowed in thought right now. _Our existence is a highly guarded secret. Kill the interloper and we’ll consider that your freedom price._

“What the fuck?” Jason says, his jaw dropping. 

Beside him, Dick tenses up and yells “Are you fucking kidding me?” in yet more exasperation. Not that Jason can blame him in the slightest. 

_Kill him and you are free, Todd_ ‘Gotham’ says with finality. Jason’s too shocked to move, let alone speak for a good long moment. It’s not even an option. There’s no way he’s gonna hurt Dick. The good doctor’s getting married, he has loved ones... Jason _likes_ him. Jason thinks that maybe if Dick was single he’d ask him out, maybe even get serious with him. Maybe in another universe where they met earlier, _Jason’s_ the one about to marry him.

“Fuck you. Go to hell. I ain’t doin’ it.” Jason snarls, pushing Dick behind him to protect him. He’s pretty sure they’re both dead if he’s doesn’t come up with something clever in the next few seconds. Unfortunately he’s not given those seconds. ‘Gotham’ rushes him, and while he brings up his arms to protect himself, ‘Haven’ rushes by him, grabbing Dick and tackling him to the ground. 

Jason hears ‘Haven’s high pitched voice giggle, _We’re going to sit this one out and see who’s stronger! My boss, ‘Gotham’, or your boy Jason!_

“Get the hell off me!” Dick shouts, but it’s in anger not pain; and between two hard heavy blows, Jason takes the chance to look over, to see ‘Haven’ pinning Dick to the ground beside Jason’s grave. It’s a solid pin, but Dick’s not being hurt.

Jason can’t spare any more attention to Dick right now though. ‘Gotham’s giving him a pretty good pummelling and Jason needs to move from defensive to offensive if they’re gonna survive the night. He drops down low, pushing up inside the reach of ‘Gotham’. It’s a risky move, getting inside those arms, but it’s giving him an opening to the Shadowbeast’s underbelly, and well, Jason’s gonna take it. He goes all out, punching and kicking in a flurry of fast blows that he still has no memory of ever learning. 

His body is moving on muscle memory, Jason barely has to even think of what he’s doing, or about to do. His punches land with the sound of breaking bones, his kicks end up forcing ‘Gotham’ backwards towards the trees. His dodges keep him out of reach from ‘Gotham’s attacks. He even remembers how Dick had flipped over him, and tries it himself. His body moves through the air so easily that it almost feels like he can fly...

‘Gotham’ is being forced right into the copse of trees and he hears ‘Haven’ squeal out a loud _No fair!_ and the soft sound of a thud into stone. 

_Haven! Come!_ ‘Gotham’ growls out, finally getting his hands on Jason and shoving him back hard. Jason’s heels hit the edge of his grave and he stops moving. _These mortals aren’t worth this fight. Their souls will leave their bodies soon enough._

 _Are you sure, boss?_ ‘Haven’ calls out, sounding oddly happy still. _’Cause they’re doing a pretty good job of kicking our asses! I think they deserve a little reward!_

 _Haven. Now._ ‘Gotham’ growls.

 _Aww, fine. Coming Boss._ ‘Haven’ giggles as he moves over to ‘Gotham’s side and they fade into the shadows of the trees. ‘Haven’s voice lingers long enough to say _Bye guys, you were a lot of fun!_

Jason turns around, and Dick’s rushing over to him, grabbing him and kissing him before Jason can even ask if he’s alright. It’s a messy, desperate, kiss, and Jason’s never tasted anything sweeter. Dick breaks the kiss, looking hazy and flushed. Jason wouldn’t say no to another, but Dick pulls back, apologies falling from his lips already.

“Shit, Jason, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... I have a fiancé!” Dick babbles, looking wrecked and guilty. Jason can’t stand that, he’s going to fix it.

“It’s OK, Doc. It was just adrenaline. Let’s forget it ever happened, OK?” Jason says, swallowing back his disappointment. 

“I... Yeah.” Dick says, swallowing and then giving a small throat clearing cough. “Yes. We should do that.”

Jason gives Dick a small warm smile, hoping his regret doesn’t show on his face. “Let’s go make sure you still got a fucking job.”

***

“This is going to go fine!” Dick says, smiling in a forced and slightly manic way as he and Jason stand outside the door to the morgue. Jason thinks this is possibly un-fucking-warranted optimism, but he’s prepared to sell his ‘miraculous resurrection’ any way that’ll help Dick. 

“You keep telling yourself that, Doc.” Jason says, patting Dick gently on the shoulder. “Keep up that positive attitude!”

“Thanks... OK, I guess we’d better go in.” Dick’s shoulders are slumped, and despite his positive words, he looks like a man about to face a firing squad. Which in a way he is; just not _that_ kind of firing. “Pick a god and pray for me?”

“You don’t need a fucking god.” Jason says, rolling his shoulders and pulling on a level of false confidence that makes Dick’s eyes dilate. “You’ve got me.”

“Keep it together, Grayson, you’ve got a fiancé.” Dick mutters as he drops his gaze to the floor and then turns to the door.

Jason pulls open the door, letting Dick walk through, following him inside. Dick stops short after a few steps, and Jason walks into his back, feeling the heavy door slam behind him, knocking into his head. It’s a sharp, searing pain, momentarily blinding him and driving him to his knees. “What the fuck, Doc?” Jason gasps out when he feels like he can breathe again. He’s barely getting off his knees, Dick’s hands cupping his elbows to help him stand when the flood of memories surges through him. 

_The gun firing and Jason hitting his head on the way down after the bullet knocks him onto his back._

_Being moved like a puppet to cut the heads from eight different corpses, flashing in and out of consciousness with each one._

_Clawing his way out of his grave; dirt, splinters of wood, and bugs brushing on his skin as he digs upward._

_Two shadowy personifications of the city and its twin offering him another chance at life in return for a favour._

_A white faced monster dragging him from the street and beating him with a crowbar, over and over._

_Jumping in joy from the third step of the stairs when his grandpa made special cookies for only him for his birthday._

_Impressing his dad’s lady friend with his knowledge of Shakespeare and feeling like maybe he finally wasn’t making a fool of himself in front of the adults._

_His newly adoptive father trusting him with the car keys for the first time after he got his licence._

_Meeting his new father for the first time._

_Finding his mother dead in the bathroom._

_Hiding under the table with Sparky, while his parents argued._

“Jason!” Dick’s voice comes through watery and weak, and Jason has to fight to open his eyes and look at him. “Jason! Are you OK? Jason?”

“I’m...” Jason shakes his head, forcing the memories back. “I’m OK, Doc. Just uh... Taking a sudden unexpected trip down memory fucking lane.”

“Your memories came back?” Dick says, gently touching Jason’s face, looking worried.

“Yeah. All at once.” Jason stands up straight, running his hands through his hair. “Well, that was fucking unpleasant.”

“I’m sure.” Dick nods, his hands lingering on Jason’s chest. “Do you need anything? To sit down, some water?”

“Nah. I’m good, Doc.” Jason summons up a warm smile at Dick. His worried face is stupidly cute; with that little crease in the middle of his brows. “Let’s go see your boss and get this mess fucking fixed?”

Dick clearly wants to linger, his hands fluttering around Jason’s arms, but he steps back and nods. “Here goes nothing?”

“Aww, Doc, you could never be nothin’” Jason grins, and Dick flushes, smiling despite himself.

“Flirterer.” Dick shakes his head, still smiling and starts walking. “Come on, we’re down this way.”

Dick walks along the cold dark corridor, pausing in front of a door. He raises his hand and knocks sharply, twice. A muffled voice inside tells them to enter. Dick takes a deep breath and opens the door to his boss’ office.

“Grayson? What are you doing here?” A balding, plump man says, squinting up at them. “Isn’t tonight your night off?”

“Uh...” Dick frowns, turning his head to Jason, who shrugs. “No? Look, about the missing body and heads...”

“What?” Dick’s boss stares at him like _Dick’s_ grown another head. “There aren’t any missing heads or bodies.”

“What?” Dick blinks rapidly, clearly confused. Jason hears a ghostly giggle, like the one ‘Haven’ made and a shudder goes down his spine. ‘Haven’ had mentioned a reward...

“Grayson, are you drunk? Did you bring your hook-up here to impress him?” The man shakes his head in despair. “Go home, sleep it off and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

“But...” Dick says, about to defend himself. He stops when Jason rests a hand on his arm; Dick turns to look at him, and Jason shakes his head.

“Grayson. Go home.” The man says, his voice taking on a dreamlike quality. “In fact, you’ve been working too hard. Take the rest of the week off.”

Jason pulls Dick away from the door, closing it. “OK, so you remember ‘Haven’ saying we should be rewarded for being fun?”

Dick stares at him for a moment. “Yeah?”

“When they brought me back, I got the feeling that I wasn’t the fucking first, and I’m sure I won’t be the fucking last they get to do this. I think this is the ‘reward’. You off the hook for the missing bodies...” Jason shoves his hands into his pockets, hitting His hand something that wasn’t there a moment ago. He pulls it the wallet, opening it up. “For me, a new life. A valid I.D that makes me twenty-five; driver’s licence, and cash.”

“Huh...” Dick takes the wallet. “And a home address that matches mine.”

“OK, I guess we’re roomies for a while? If that’s OK?” Jason grins, fighting off the feeling that this is very wrong and too easy. 

“After tonight? Sure, why not.” Dick shrugs.

***

Dick opens the door to his apartment, an equally exhausted Jason standing behind him as he fumbles with the key. Once he gets the door open, he practically trips inside, Jason only a step or two behind him. He blindly points to the bedroom, “Jason, there’s a shower in the en-suite if you want to get cleaned up before you sleep.” He takes a long moment to study Jason’s face, the way he’s almost squinting with how tired he is, and the traces of the fight earlier smudged all over his skin. Dick desperately wants to reach out, brush his thumb over the curve of Jason’s jaw; offer the man some comfort after their long night. He restrains himself to only tracing the lines of Jason’s face with his eyes. 

“’K.” Jason mumbles, shuffling over to the bedroom door and closing it behind him quietly.

“Dick.” A woman’s voice says, strong and firm but also that familiar gentleness that Dick adores. 

“AAAAAAH!” Dick yells, still jumpy from earlier. He puts his hand over his heart. “Oh my god, don’t _do_ that! How long have you been here?”

“Sorry.” Donna says, looking entirely unapologetic, with a bright smile that reminds Dick of the stars. “But you didn’t notice me at all when you walked in. I thought I should... Well, I’m not sure it matters now.”

“You should what? And it totally matters, of course it does.” Dick blinks, whatever she has to say will always matter.

“No, I don’t think it does.” Donna pauses, really looking him over. “Dick, honey... You look like you’ve been through the wringer tonight. Maybe this can wait.”

“No, please tell me now.” Dick can’t bear the wait, and there’s something about the way she’s standing awkwardly that makes Dick think that whatever it is, it’s important.

“Honey. Look, I’ve been putting this conversation off for weeks; I can wait one more night.” At Dick’s stubborn look, she sighs and continues. “But seeing the way you looked at your friend... Well, I guess it’s settled my mind for me.”

“What do you mean?” Dick rubs a hand over his face. He’s a little too tired for this, but he pushes through because it’s _Donna_.

“I don’t think we should get married. I think we should break up, in fact. Because you’ve never looked at me the way you looked at your friend just now. Not _once_ since we were twelve.” Donna says, looking down for a single second before lifting her head to stare at Dick. “I have no idea how long you’ve known him, but honey, it’s obvious you love him.”

“No!” Dick’s protest falls from his lips without any thought. Even as he says it, he’s pretty sure it’s not entirely the truth.

“Honey, you’ll always be my soulmate, there’s no question how much we love each other.” Donna says, walking over and taking Dick’s hand in hers. It’s warm and familiar and Dick grips back automatically.

“Absolutely none!” Dick nods, leaning in towards her.

“But Dick... You’re not _in love_ with me. And I’m not in love with _you_. You’re the other half of my soul...” Donna leans in so that their shoulders are touching and Dick can smell the scent of her jasmine perfume in her long dark hair. “But we’re making each other miserable with this wedding nonsense.”

“What?” Dick says, startled and jolting back. He looks at Donna with wide hurting eyes.

“Dick, you’ve been working nights, picking up every shift you can. It’s not for the money, we both know that. You’ve been trying to hide yourself away from the fact you don’t want this. You don’t want me to be your wife.” Donna sighs, she doesn’t look sad, so much as she looks resigned. 

“I...” Dick tries to think of some way to protest that, but he can’t find the words.

“I don’t want you to be my husband, either.” Donna looks him straight in the eyes. He knows she means it. 

“Donna...” Dick starts again, still failing to find any words to explain how he feels.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong.” Donna says, voice gentle yet firm.

“I know.” Dick sighs, heavily, unable to meet Donna’s gaze head on. “You’re right. _I know_. I don’t want to get married. But I don’t want to lose you either.” 

“You could never.” Donna says, steel and fire in her voice. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m meant to be having breakfast with Kori, and after that I need to go cancel, well, pretty much everything for the wedding.”

“Donna, I love you.” Dick finally manages to push out, past the lump of heavy relief in his throat. This is exactly why he loves her, why she’s his soulmate. She doesn’t let him get away with anything.

“I know, honey.” Donna smiles, her shoulders relaxed as she takes her freedom. “I love you too. I’ll call you tonight, OK?”

“I’ll pick up.” Dick promises, lifting her hand so he can press a kiss to the back of it.

“I know you will.” Donna smiles widely at Dick, so clearly relieved. “I’m going to let you get back to your friend now.”

“Jason.” Dick says without thinking. Why it’s important that Donna uses his name, Dick’s not sure. But it is.

“Jason.” Donna nods, a knowing smile on her face. “He’s cute. Good going with that.”

“Donna!” Dick says embarrassed as Donna stops to plant a kiss on his cheek and leaves the apartment giggling. Dick stares that the door as it shuts behind her. He feels... He has no idea what he feels, he’s too tired. Feeling is a tomorrow!Dick problem. Right now, he wants to curl up in bed and sleep until Donna calls him.

He drops his jacket over the back of a chair and walks over to the closed bedroom door. He rests his head against the wood for a few seconds, his hand curled around the handle. From here he can hear the faint sound of the shower shutting off. Dick opens the door, walking through to shuck his shoes off at the end of the bed, and lose his shirt and pants. Throwing back the covers he sits down, in nothing but a t-shirt and his boxerbriefs. 

The door to the en-suite opens and Jason pads out, his t-shirt damp and slightly stained, clinging to his skin. Dick has the presence of mind to note that Jason found himself a pair of Dick’s Wonder Woman boxers to wear before he walks over, his towel-dried hair sticking out every which way. “I can sleep on the couch.” Jason says, hovering by the side of the bed, giving it longing looks. Dick can’t blame him; his bed’s actually even more comfortable than it looks.

“No. Get in.” Dick says, throwing the covers over his legs and pulling the other side down. “I promised you a real bed. You’re getting in the bed.”

“Bossy.” Jason says with a grin, sitting down on the bed before letting out a silent sigh as the memory foam moulds around him.

“You like it.” Dick says, barely summoning up the energy to raise a single eyebrow.

“I do actually.” Jason grins, settling more into the bed. 

His head’s about to hit the pillow, with his eyes closed when Dick speaks again. “I broke up with Donna. My fiancé.”

“Oh. Shit.” Jason’s eye fly wide open and he turns his head to look at Dick. “Sorry?”

“No.” Dick sigh heavily, giving Jason a quick smile. “It’s for the best. It’s really not a good idea to marry someone when you’re interested in another person.”

“Probably not.” Jason agrees, still keeping that intense gaze on Dick, who fights back a shiver at how it makes him _want_. 

“You know, I’m too tired to be embarrassed that she took one look at us together and knew how I felt about you.” Dick summons up a mirthless laugh, closing his eyes for a second. He’s let Donna down so much, and she still loves him.

“You kinda wear your heart on your sleeve, Doc.” Jason says softly, one hand reaching up to cup Dick’s face gently. His hands are rough, but just as warm as Donna’s, and Dick wants to melt into him. “It’s one of your better qualities.”

“So.” Dick says, taking a breath as Jason rolls over onto his side and presses his forehead against Dick’s. “It’s probably a really bad idea to ask you out right now, considering I just broke up with Donna, and we’d been together for fifteen years, but...”

“I’d love to go out with you, but ask me again later after we’ve fucking slept.” Jason smiles, shifting to press a kiss to Dick’s forehead. Dick wants to cry at how tender Jason’s being.

“Yeah?” Dick breathes out as Jason’s mouth lowers down to press a quick kiss to the end of his nose.

“Yeah.” Jason nods, his eyes still gazing into Dick’s. They only slip closed when Dick’s courage flows once again, and his lips find Jason’s. 

Dick’s heart flutters in his chest when Jason wraps his arms around Dick, and it’s all too easy to melt into the man in his bed. This is what he wants and needs. He’d give this man anything he asked, and he knows that Jason would do the same for him. After all, Jason already did.


End file.
